Something Great
by Heart of a Music Box
Summary: Yao contemplates his growing brother.  Discontinued; now secure at a single chapter.


The serene Chinese countryside, illuminated by the sun and warmed by its comforting rays. A gentle breeze blows through the grasses and trees, as the silence is broken only slightly by a bird's cry and a faint, far-off tiger's roar. The land appears to be at peace, but if one listens closely…

The clash of steel and the grunts of two males sparring fills the air just outside a stately home. The older of the two, clearly more experienced, feints purposely and pulls back to defend himself, instructing his charge without words. The boy rushes forward like a fierce wind as sweat cascades down his forehead, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He slashes and leaps forward at the older man, the ferocity in his movements equal only to his blazing expression.

Suddenly, the older man slips on a muddy spot and his leg collapses. He is disrupted only slightly, but the tiny opportunity is enough for the boy; he jabs his blade underneath the one of his mentor and sends it flying off to the left, bringing it around once more to slice the older man's abdomen. Threadlike splatters of blood leap into the air, staining their garb, the grass, and the boy's sword scarlet.

The mentor's eyes widen in shock as his hand flies to his wound. The boy's expression becomes similar, one of shock and fear as he drops his own weapon, falling to his knees beside the man he knew only as his guardian, his beloved older brother.

"Aiya, you really cut me there," Yao laughed casually as he wrapped a bandage around his body, "I think the heat must be getting to us."

Kiku's gaze was centered on the ground; the sight of Yao's bloody bandage made his insides churn.

"Well," Yao carried on, seemingly unaware of his subordinate's discomfort, "I would say that's enough for today's practicing, hm? I think it's time to make supper anyway."

Kiku mumbled something, his face contorting into a look of pain and he turned his gaze even farther from the older man.

"Eh? I can't hear you when you mumble."

"I'm sorry, Yao, I…" he covered his face with his sleeves, his shoulders heaving in a single sob, "I'm so sorry!"

Yao stared for a moment before laughing again, throwing an arm around the boy who had wounded him. He shook him gently, squeezing his shoulders.

"Don't apologize! I'm proud of how quickly you spotted my weakness! It would've been another second and I'd have been back on my feet and ready to fight again! You're improving, Kiku, never apologize for improvement!"

Kiku leaned his head against Yao's torso, not removing his hands from his face.

"Besides," now Yao's voice was a tad uncertain, "it's not like you meant to actually wound me."

Kiku looked at him then, their eyes deadlocked in a silent standoff. The look in the young man's eyes confirmed what Yao already knew; he was in denial. Kiku had truly meant to hurt him. Perhaps he regretted it now, and Yao was sure that he did, but in that moment, when Kiku had seen his weakness, his sole intent had been to injure, possibly even kill him.

"You're right, I would never do this…" Kiku gently touched the newly-lain bandage, "…on purpose."

Yao smiled in spite of the truth he knew they were both concealing, giving Kiku another squeeze before getting to his feet.

"Well, what says you about making dinner now?"

Kiku nodded smiled in reply, and Yao could see the last flickers of the darkness he'd seen in his eyes disappear.

"Go ahead before me, " Yao continued, "I'm going to go and retrieve the swords we flung all over the place."

His younger companion laughed quietly at his words and entered the house, his footsteps telling Yao he was headed in the direction of the kitchen.

As he picked up the discarded weapons, Yao pondered that darkness he'd seen in Kiku's eyes. He'd seen that kind of shadow before, in the eyes of every Mongolian he'd ever met in combat, as well as in the eyes of the strange young man Ivan, who lived farther north. It was ambition, a dark desire for power and position, something Yao knew could taint even the purest warrior.

"Someday," he said to the sky as he returned in the direction of the house, "that boy will become something great, and when it happens…" a tear slipped from his eye, "I probably won't live through it."

He entered the house just as the sun slipped below the western horizon.


End file.
